


When Life Gives You Lemons . . . Don't Ask Bellamy Blake What To Do With Them

by rycewritestrash



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Fluff and Angst, POV Bellamy Blake, Post-Season/Series 02 Finale, Vague Optimistic Future
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-04
Updated: 2018-03-04
Packaged: 2019-03-25 07:59:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13829874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rycewritestrash/pseuds/rycewritestrash
Summary: “I’m not having kids.”Bellamy freezes, mid-bite, knife clattering on the table. “What?” he says, the first word he’s spoken since he sat by them for dinner, startling both Clarke, who looks pissed, and Raven who looks entirely too gleeful.“What do you mean what?”“I just—” Bellamy shifts, not at all comfortable with where this is heading. “I think I misheard you.”“You didn’t,” she says, raising a brow, daring him to challenge her.He shouldn’t.It’s not his place.But of course he can’t help himself.“Why not?”orClarke returns years later and Bellamy struggles to make room for her in his life again.





	When Life Gives You Lemons . . . Don't Ask Bellamy Blake What To Do With Them

**Author's Note:**

> Wait, I'm still alive?
> 
> Mostly.
> 
> Just been trying out this new thing where I write original stories, because I'm basic and I have dreams and goals and something about turning 26 and having a crisis about what I'm doing with my life, man.
> 
> But I still love Bellarke and couldn't stay away forever.

One of the best things about life on Earth is that no one has to worry about that stupid one child per family rule ever again.

Of course this isn’t something that occurs to Bellamy until sometime after Ava is born.

“She looks like you did, O,” he says, slack jawed, staring down at the squirming infant snuggled against him, still covered in—

“That’s wonderful, Bell,” she says, sighing like the mere act of speaking is enough to exhaust her all over again. “But do you mind letting her get cleaned off before taking up the role as adoring, over-protective uncle once more?”

It’s difficult to tear his eyes away from the child in his arms, but he manages.  Octavia’s cheeks are stained pink, glistening with sweat; her hooded eyes meet his own, flickering back at him with fond amusement, the corner of her mouth curled up in a smirk.

He’s never been more proud.

“I’ll take her.”

Bellamy jumps, glaring at the smug grin plastered on Clarke Griffin’s face for startling him and effectively ruining the moment.

He doubts she’d look so pleased with herself if she saw her reflection—such a fucking mess, hair falling out of her ponytail, because it’s barely long enough to hold, eyes bloodshot from lack of sleep with dark circles underneath, bottom lip cracked, dipped red, because she wouldn’t stop biting the hell out of it—you’d almost think she was the one who just had a baby, versus helping deliver one.

He opts to ignore the part of his brain that wastes time picturing her future children with freckles and dark curls, focusing instead on the fact that despite her disheveled appearance, she’s still positively gorgeous and her lips are probably still kissable, if that were something he’d be interested in— _which he isn’t._

Her smile widens and he ducks his head, ears burning, realizing he’s been gawking too long for it to go unnoticed.

“Was he like this after Mika was born?” Clarke asks, and Bellamy’s just relieved to have an excuse for zoning out.

The best part is he didn’t even have to come up with it himself.

Also, it’s partially true. His sister _did_ just have a baby. He’s allowed to be a little stunted.

“Worse,” Octavia says, because she’s a traitor, and he takes back every nice thing he’s ever thought or said about her, _ever._

Clarke raises an eyebrow in question and Bellamy bites his tongue to keep himself from shouting something stupid like, _maybe if you were around back then, you would know, Princess._

“He had to wait for Lincoln to share him,” Octavia explains further, much to Bellamy’s annoyance.

He tightens his arms around the little bundle, cradling it closer to his chest when Clarke attempts to get him to hand Ava over again.

The third time she tries he slaps her hands away completely.

Octavia snorts and catches Clarke’s eye, sharing a look like they’re having their own silent conversation without him. His chest aches remembering how it was when they were a unit and things were that way between _them,_ but he’s not going to be jealous about it.

Terrified, maybe.

And perhaps a bit endeared, though he’ll never admit it.

Clarke flickers her gaze back to him and huffs, impatient.

“Bellamy,” she says, narrowing her eyes when he takes a step back. She’s about half a second away from tapping her foot on the ground and pouting.

“Do you even know how to hold her?” he asks, not bothering to keep his tone in check.

Clarke looks genuinely taken aback for a moment and he almost feels guilty for snapping at her, but then her face hardens into something fierce, more peeved than he’s seen since she returned to camp five months ago, and he ignored her for three of those, so that’s a whole lot of pent-up aggression rolled into one hard stare.

He’s not going to bother explaining himself, but if he did, he’d tell her he’s ninety-nine percent sure she’s never handled a newborn before in her life, and Mika’s two, so he doesn’t count; also, he’s not going to feel bad for checking to see that she knows what she’s doing.

_He’s not._

Clarke glowers and her jaw ticks like it usually does when she’s refraining from telling him to fuck off. She glances behind him at Octavia for help, but whatever she’s sees there makes her brow soften and her shoulders sag in defeat.

“Show me,” she whispers.

He ducks his head and bites his cheek to keep himself from grinning like an idiot, even though she’s not looking at him to catch it.

Better safe than sorry.

 “Lincoln’s going to be so pissed he missed this,” O mutters.

“Pissed at you for telling him to go,” Bellamy says, because he’s defensive about everything right now and doesn’t know how to stop.

“It was only two days!”

“And you waited a whole fourteen hours to go into labor,” He replies dry. “I hope you’re happy.”

“Thrilled,” she says, and he has no doubt she means it.

*

Things are _weird_ between Clarke and him, for lack of a better word.

He initially thought just a phase, a side effect of her being gone for so long and everything that happened in between.

It felt like they were headed some place good for a bit, after he stopped pretending she didn't exist and accepted she was there to stay.

He still has trouble with the last part.

But now he’s wondering if that was all in his head too. It wouldn’t be the first time he thought there was something there—more than just trust and reliance. Sometimes it was just a brush of skin, the ghost of her fingers on his days after they touched. That familiar tug of want for something _more_ every time she walked away. Sometimes he’d catch her looking and thought, _maybe she wanted it too_.

But then Mount Weather happened.

Clarke left.

“She’s good with them,” Octavia says, bumping his hip.

Clarke’s rocking Ava, laughing when her tiny fists latch onto Clarke’s hair and tugs. Mika’s attached himself to Clarke’s leg, apparently deciding her foot makes for a good place to sit.

Bellamy clears his throat and shrugs. “She’s okay, I guess.”

Octavia elbows him in the ribs.

“Fuck—what was that for?”

“Being an idiot,” she says like it’s _obvious_. “When are you two going to get your shit figured out?”

“There’s nothing to figure out,” he lies.

Octavia studies him a bit too long for his liking and considers hiding in his room indefinitely, because it’s completely unfair for him to be this transparent.

And then she says, “I thought you two were fucking,” all calm, like mentioning that the sky looks a tad cloudy today and maybe they should expect rain.

Naturally, Bellamy nearly chokes on his on tongue in response.

_What._

“What?”

“Before,” she clarifies, continuing as if Bellamy didn’t almost throw up a vital organ and _like that explanation makes so much more sense anyways._

It definitely doesn’t.

“Uh—”

She rolls her eyes. “You really weren’t, were you? I thought maybe Clarke just wouldn’t admit it.”

“You talked to Clarke about me? About _us_ —I mean—you—wait, why would you think that?”

Octavia’s mouth fall open and she blinks up at him as if she’s never been more unimpressed by anything in her entire life, which is definitely saying _something._

“Wow. Okay, I get it now.”

Bellamy really needs her to explain it to him then, because clearly he’s not on the same page.

“Get what?” he asks slow, mostly because his brain is still buffering.

“Why you guys never hooked up.” She pauses like she’s thinking it over, but Bellamy’s pretty sure she’s just trying to torture him for dramatic effect, because she’s a brat in that way.

He might deserve it.

“I’m not trying to,” he says, before she can finish the thought, flinching when Octavia looks him dead in the eye, squaring her shoulders.

“But you wanted to.”

“No,” he lies again.

“You still want to.”

“That’s not—”

“She doesn’t know, does she? I really thought—shit, I was so pissed when she left, because I saw what it did to you, how much it broke you. I hated her for that even more for that than I did for Ton DC, but this whole time she just didn’t know. _You_ never told her.”

“O,” Bellamy warns, but it’s useless.

“You’re in love with her, or at least you _were_ , I’m not sure about currently.”

“I’m not—” he starts, but stops when he sees the way she’s looking at him and _god._

He’s so fucking transparent.

“Okay, maybe I was, or I don’t know . . . I could have been. _Maybe_ ,” he relents.

Octavia scoffs and Bellamy glares at the top of her head, glancing back over to Clarke to be sure she’s not paying attention to them.

He sighs, rubbing his palm over his face. “I know there was something there before, but we never acted on it." He pauses. "I didn’t realize how much I wanted to until she was gone. And that was almost three years ago, so--"

It's not fair to think they could just pick wherever they left off. He might not have been with anyone when she returned, but he had been before--not being attached _now_ doesn't mean he still hasn't moved on.

“She’s here now,” Octavia says soft. She squeezes his shoulder, but he shrugs her off, because the comforting touch feels too close to pity.

“I hadn’t realized," he says, flat.

“I’m serious, brother. Not everyone gets a second chance.”

He snorts. “This feels more like a fourth or fifth. I stopped keeping track.”

“Maybe the universe is trying to tell you something.”

“Yeah. If I made a habit of listening to the universe, we’d all be dead by now.”

“But we’re not,” she says, firm, nudging him with her bony elbow, until he meets her stare. “And it’s about time you joined the living, Bell.”

*

"You're going to make a great mom someday, Griffin."

Clarke's head snaps up, gawking at Raven like she’s suffering from radioactive poisoning and is growing a new subhuman skull out of her neck.

Bellamy hides his grin by taking a bite of an apple.

"What?" she asks, still bouncing Mika on her knee. Bellamy’s only a little worried she looks like she's about to have an aneurism.

Raven shrugs. “Mika likes you more than me.”

As if to prove her point, Mika giggles, snuggling back into Clarke’s chest, clapping his hands.

Bellamy is positively beaming.

“And Ava still cries every time I try to hold her,” Raven adds, rolling her eyes and smiling at nothing.

“Clarke plays knights and princesses with me,” Mika pipes up, only his ‘Ls’ and 'Rs' sound more like ‘Ws.’

It’s the most adorable thing ever and Bellamy will fight anyone who says otherwise.

“She would,” Raven says, smirking when Clarke glares her.

Mika sticks out his tongue and squirms out of Clarke’s lap when he spots Lincoln.

He stumbles running up to him and Clarke nearly leaps out of her makeshift stool to catch his fall, but Lincoln gets to him first, laughing when his son hops up and wraps his arms around his knees for support.

“See?” Raven says. “Motherly instincts.”

Clarke huffs and chances a glance over at Bellamy.

He immediately drops his gaze to his plate, stabbing a piece of deer meat with his knife, because he’s so not interested in giving insight into _that_ conversation.

Clarke’s silent for a beat, before she states, calmly, “I’m not having kids.”

Bellamy freezes, mid-bite, knife clattering on the table. “What?” he says, the first word he’s spoken since he sat by them for dinner, startling both Clarke, who looks pissed, and Raven who looks entirely too gleeful.

“What do you mean _what_?”

“I just—” Bellamy shifts, not at all comfortable with where this is heading. “I think I misheard you.”

“You didn’t,” she says, raising a brow, daring him to challenge her.

He shouldn’t.

It’s not his place.

But of course he can’t help himself.

“Why not?”

“Oh boy,” Raven mutters under her breath the same time Clarke says, “I’m not having kids, Bellamy.”

He feels something tight in his chest like a fist clenched around his heart. 

She never says she doesn't _want_ them and Bellamy doesn’t give himself enough time to consider his response before he blurts out, “I don’t believe you.”

Clarke’s eyes narrow dangerously. “Excuse me?”

“Oh, I just realized I have something important to do literally anywhere else,” Raven declares, hopping up from her seat and taking off before Clarke can latch on to her arm. "Sorry not sorry, Griffin."

She seethes at her retreating back before setting her sights back on Bellamy. “Well?”

“I just—” He stutters, trying to think of a response that won’t get him punched, something that doesn’t include, _I sometimes imagine you having my babies, but we’ve never even kissed, so it’s awkward._

“You’re so happy around Mika and Ava—I thought . . .” he trails off.

Something in her gaze softens and she looks down, avoiding his stare. “I love them,” she admits.

“I know,” Bellamy says, unable to hide the fondness in his voice. He swallows, rubbing his palms over his pants. “Clarke—”

“I’d kill for them.”

The way she says it, like a threat, or a promise, sends a chill up his spine, even as his cheeks warm with affection.

“I would too,” he says, reaching out for her, but she pulls away before they touch, like she’s afraid of getting burned.

“I bring only death, Bellamy. It’s not in me to give life to anything.”

The fist around his heart squeezes.

“Clarke, you can’t possibly think that.” She shakes her head, blinking furiously.  “You’re a fighter, but that’s not all you are. You’re also a healer. You save people.”

“At what cost?”

He huffs, pushing his hair off his forehead. “None of us would be here if it wasn’t for you," he reminds her stubbornly, trying to keep his voice even.

“And what would I be willing to do to save those I love Bellamy? I sacrificed Ton DC for you. I was willing to kill your sister if it meant keeping you alive. Who would pay the price if I—if _Wanheda_ carried an heir. What would she do to keep our child safe?”

His breath catches. “Don’t call yourself that. It’s not who you are.”

“It’s _exactly_ who I am. You’re an idiot for thinking anything more.”

“Then I guess I’m idiot." He glowers at her, gripping the edge of the table to stop himself from jerking her to him when she gets up to leave.

Her hands shake when she reaches for her belongings, stuffing a book into her pack. He sighs and tries again. “Clarke—”

“No,” she says, not looking at him. “I’m not having this conversation with you. It’s none of your damn business.”

Considering her previous word choice he wants to argue that point.

“Princess, wait, please.” He caves then, reaching up to tug at her elbow.

Her eyes soften, mask slipping off, revealing something Bellamy hasn’t seen since right before she left the first time.

“I’m just going to med bay,” she whispers, reading his thoughts. “I have a shift.”

And then she’s gone.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this awhile go and just edited it. Obviously, there's more coming, but no promises when. I love all of you for reading and I wish I had more to offer this lovely fandom!


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